Poetry: It's Summer

After a brief mental vacation, I'm back to my blog. With promptings from Mollie Fisk, I have joined thirteen others and have committed to writing a poem a day for the month of June. Mollie e-mails a prompt, we e-mail our poems to members of the group and post them on our respective blogs. The last time I wrote poetry was in college, but I figured I'd jump in and see how it goes. Today's prompt was, "Write about water in any of its forms: solid, liquid, or gas, fresh or salt," which brought back memories of my childhood in Ohio and summers at the pool.

It's Summer

It's summer .
We're at the pool.
Marco...Polo

Nancy is frozen at the end of the high dive
A line of boys forming behind.
"Go ahead. Jump."

From the perch above the pool a whistle blows
"No running," shouts the tall and tan
Poolside Adonis.

The whistle blows again.
This time at Nancy, who remains motionless
Fixated on the water.

The younger girls play ring around the rosie
Holding hands and noses
"I can hold my breath longer than you."

We're up on the deck, Margie, Rachel, and me.
Waiting for Nancy so we can play jacks.
Where is she?

Our shadow, Little Roby, tan as tar says,
"I'll go get her."
He races off toward the pool.

Waiting, we argue about who Adonis likes best
While Roby scrambles up the steps
Past the boys in line,

Without hesitation he pushes Nancy into the pool
The boys cheer and do cannon balls
Showering the card-playing mothers

Adonis blows his whistle
"Time Out," he screams
At boys who don't care.

Nancy, dripping, and smiling
Sits Indian-style
As she takes her place at our game.

Did you see me? She asks.
We nod and pass her the ball.
It's your turn.

It's summer.
We're at the Pool.